Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. Do you want me, too?β βYes,β she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. β She said, studying his face, which seemed to lose its childishness a little more with each day.
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